Sunday, November 9, 2008

In Loving Memory

Thirteen years ago I bought my own place. Since I was a single female, I decided I would feel safer and less lonely with the company of a canine companion. There was a farm that raised American Eskimos. I called and was told that the litter was already taken. A couple days later, they called me back to inform me that one had been returned. A reject, but was I still interested. I drove out to pick you up. On the ride home, you must have been car sick because you threw up. It was easy to overlook this mess because you were such a cute tiny ball of fur, with one floppy ear that did not quite stand up yet. I named you Cheyenne.

Since then we have been through a lot together. Your fur has dried many tears. You have been a faithful companion. Your paws have hiked many miles. You have slept in a tent countless nights. You loved to play outside and get dirty. And boy were you good at it. People who didn't know you would comment about how such a pretty white dog could get so dirty. You loved it.

Then Mark came into our picture and you accepted him as he accepted the fact that he would have to buy clothes based on your shedding. No more black or dark colored clothes for him. he loved you as his own. Now we were a family of three.

When I was pregnant with Morgan, people expressed their fear about your breed. You were not supposed to be good with small children. You might get jealous. You might bite. All of that was just words. From the day we brought home Morgan, you embraced your new role as guardian. You proudly took your new position taking watch at the foot of the crib. And there you stayed, even when Morgan transitioned to a bed.

Then you developed a limp. Oh so slight at first. Pain medicine appeared to work for a while. Then the limp got worse. We took you to several doctors until finally you were diagnosed with a tumor pressing on your sciatic nerve. We tried to make you comfortable but we had to leave you behind as we went camping and hiking. Soon you had troubles making it around the block. With in time you hardly moved at all. The pain medicine was no longer working. It has been a good journey. You have been a good dog. You fought a good battle, but now it is time. Time for you to rest, my dear friend. So now with tears in our eyes, we say goodbye. It's time to run free. Run now like you haven't run in years.